Still Alive
by Erisella
Summary: Sequel to Won't Give In. A traumatic event doesn't just disappear. A year after Arthur was rescued, Eames returns to the states to find that Cobb has intervened with the natural course of recovery. In progress.
1. Prologue

**Still Alive**

**Summary:** Sequel to Won't Give In. A traumatic event doesn't just disappear. A year after Arthur was rescued, Eames returns to the states to find that Cobb has intervened with the natural course of recovery.

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**Note: **I don't own inception.

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**Prologue:**

His body was battle scarred, mapping the dangers in his field of work. Old scars closed and healed, leaving only traces of what had occurred. It was instinctive to forget about what lead to the wounds that would cover his body, but the most recent scars were refusing to fade from his mind.

Deep cuts from handcuffs circled his wrists, marks that would never disappear. Cigarette burns littered his forearm, imprinting the events that had occurred almost three months ago. An ugly scar, precise and jagged traced across the back of his hand and palm, a reminder that the appendage was almost rendered useless. A deep cut gouged a scar into his scalp, forcing him to shave his head to allow it to heal. The old scars across his torso had been torn anew, retraced by a jagged knife, making him relive every wound he received in the past. The only physical evidence that would disappear was the dark bruise wrapped around his neck, slowly fading as the weeks wore on.

The physical scars and the appearance they presented had never bothered him before. They wouldn't have bothered him had it not been for the fact that his mental state was a complete mess after he woke from his ordeal. He had woken up screaming, trying to tear out the IVs in his arms and disconnect himself from his monitors. It had taken four grown men to restrain and sedate him, even in his weakened state.

The second time he woke, he had been so heavily sedated he could hardly move. His orderly had told him that he was safe before leading his friends to him. The familiar faces that greeted him made him feel more at ease, but he couldn't help but feel that something was wrong. He didn't let his guard down for one moment, not even when Ariadne held his hand and started to cry.

When he could speak, the first words out of his mouth were, "I need to go to New York."

Cobb hadn't understood what he meant, but Eames knew right off the bat what his words meant. Through great pains and a request to Saito, Cobb accompanied him to New York where he entered the apartment that had set off a chain of events he couldn't forget. He had been bound to a wheelchair, but still made his way through the mess to the bedroom where he had left one important item: his totem.

The moment his hands closed around the object, he tossed it to assure his reality. When the die came up with the number he needed to see, he started to cry. It came on so suddenly, he didn't know how to react. He simply let it happen, even as his movements hurt every part of his body, even as the sobs made his chest ache in a way he hadn't felt in a long time.

The scars were healing, but his mind was still a mess. He was afraid to sleep, even with the aid of the PASIV, even with the lights on. No one could go near him without him flinching or backing away, trying to keep distance between himself and any threat. Loud noises, even in his hospital room, put him on high alert. The worst was water, something he was ashamed to admit. The events plagued his mind and instilled a terrible fear in him. It was eating him alive from the inside out and he knew that if nothing was done it would ruin him.

_I have to get better, _he thought to himself as he tried to steady his shaky hands. _I have to._

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**Note: **And thus begins a new story. Please be patient with me as I work on this. Thank you for reading and let me know what you think, please.


	2. Chapter One

**Note: **Because of the holiday season the updates will be a little slow. I wasn't going to update today, but I'm actually home sick so I decided to write a little. It's not much, but I thought it was better than making you guys wait until next week for something.

Thanks for the all the reviews so far everyone, I'm glad this is off to a good start.

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**Chapter One:**

Eames rubbed his eyes as he gathered his luggage from baggage claim, noting to himself that he honestly needed to remember he hated long flights. It was his first time back in the states in almost a year and already he was missing Mombasa's warm and comforting weather. Yusuf had asked the forger if he had felt the need to go back to the states and Eames had answered that there were unresolved problems he had to take care of. _Only a partial lie_, he told himself as he carted his luggage toward the exit.

As Eames exited, he saw him. Waiting for the forger, standing by a gleaming, sleek sports car was Arthur, dressed in presentable, professional attire and sporting dark shades. He looked healthy and well, but Eames' thoughts immediately went to why the point man was the one there waiting for him.

"I thought Cobb was going to pick me up," the forger remarked as he approached the car.

Arthur's lips became a thin line before he briskly replied, "I'm pleased to see you as well, Mr. Eames."

Eames didn't push it further as he loaded his luggage into the trunk of the car before getting into the passenger seat. They rode in silence, Arthur never taking his eyes off the road. The forger kept looking over at the point man, watching that composed body before him navigating the streets and he wondered if there was a reason why Cobb hadn't been the one to greet him at the airport.

"How are you doing?" Eames finally asked, needing to get the question off his chest.

"Fine," the point man answered.

"Just fine?"

"Is there a point to this conversation?"

"Apparently not," the forger sat back in his seat, still eyeing the other man, but stayed silent for the rest of the trip.

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"You didn't tell me you were sending Arthur along," Eames said the moment he saw Cobb. The extractor only shook his head as he held out a hand to take Eames' baggage. The forger gave up his belongings without question, looking around the spacious house. Not much had changed since the last time he had been there. The biggest difference was that the wallpaper had been changed at some point in the past year.

"I need to run a few errands," Arthur said, giving Eames a sideway glance, "Don't make yourself a nuisance while you're here."

"I didn't plan to," the forger said, still eyeing the younger man with some uncertainty.

"Why are you looking at me like that?" the point man asked, brow furrowed.

"No reason," Eames replied, turning away from the other man and walking down the hall Cobb had taken earlier. He heard the front door closing as he neared a room he expected to be his for the duration of the stay.

The extractor had placed the forger's luggage on the bed and was tidying up the small room, opening the blinds and checking to see that the closet had been emptied. When Cobb turned, he looked surprised to see Eames standing in the doorway, but smiled nonetheless.

"I was surprised when you called me," Cobb said as he approached the forger, "I didn't think I'd hear from you until we got another job lined up."

"Are you thinking about getting back into the business?" Eames asked curiously.

"Maybe," the extractor answered, "Arthur's been trying to get me to take small jobs."

"Is he ready to start working again?"

"He's fine."

"Define fine."

"Are you doubting that he's ready?"

"Cobb, you know as well as I do that one doesn't just recover from what he's been through. You remember what he was like when he woke up. Something like that doesn't just go away."

"He's fine. I promise."

Eames had his doubts, but he kept his mouth shut.

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Arthur looked down at the file in his hand. It was a new job that had been hovering on the horizon for a month. He had convinced Cobb that it would be a good idea to take it as it looked easy and sounded as if it were just a simple in and out operation. Yet his mind wasn't on the file or the job, his mind was on Eames and the way the man had been looking at him the entire time in the car and after. Something made him feel unnerved.

_I'm perfectly fine,_ he told himself, thinking of the way the forger had asked him about his wellbeing. He couldn't understand it. Had there been something wrong with him? Was there a rumor going around in the underground network that he wasn't alright? He shook the thoughts from his mind and put the car into drive, hoping that the trip back to Cobb's home, his temporary residence, would allow him to clear his head.

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"That was fast," Eames' voice greeted the point man the moment he stepped through the door.

"If you're going to stay here, could you at least keep your mouth shut for a while?" Arthur snapped, giving the forger a warning look as he headed towards Cobb's study.

Letting himself him, he saw that Cobb was looking through a worn book. The extractor looked up when Arthur cleared his throat. The older man smiled at him and the point man smiled back, approaching with the file he had obtained. Arthur wasn't sure if it was the lighting in the room, but he could have sworn he saw a frown flash across the extractor's face.

"I thought you didn't want to take this job," Cobb said, leaning forward and opening the file.

"I changed my mind. I realized that it would be a good way to get myself back into practice again," Arthur replied, "It's been a long time since I've used the PASIV."

"I know, but instead of taking a job, we could just practice on our own. You're still going through physical therapy and taking medication."

"It's not officially a done deal. I told Charleston that you would have to approve it first. Don't worry, Dom, I took all of that into account."

The extractor nodded and pushed the file away, "Give me a few days to think it over, alright?"

"Of course."

With that the point man turned and walked out of the study. He closed the door behind him and made his way to the livingroom, only to be greeted by Eames. He had to suppress a sigh of exasperation. _Why is he even here? _He asked himself as he continued to the kitchen where he started a pot of coffee and looked in the refrigerator to see if he could find anything to make for the kids when they got back from school.

"You certainly are giving me the cold shoulder," Eames' voice caused Arthur to pinch the bridge of his nose in annoyance before closing the refrigerator door.

"Mr. Eames, can I ask you something?" the point man started, leaning against the kitchen counter, "What are you doing here?"

"Didn't Cobb tell you?" the forger looked confused as he approached the counter as well, his eyes fixed on Arthur. "You picked me up. I assumed he told you why I was visiting."

"He didn't tell me anything other than the fact that you would be staying for a while. I have no idea why you're here."

"And you didn't ask?"

"Was there a need for me to?"

"Arthur, I came to see you."

It was the point man's turn to look confused as he mulled over those words for several long moments, "You came to see me?"

"Yes," the forger was starting to sound irritated.

"Why would you do that?"

"Because of what happened a year ago."

"What are you talking about Eames?"

"I'm talking about what happened out in the Gulf."

Arthur felt a terrible sense of vertigo at those words and had to grab onto the counter to keep himself steady. The forger rushed forward, grabbing the younger man's arm to keep him from falling. The point man immediately batted away Eames' hand, backing away and taking a deep breath. He realized his hands were shaking and forced himself to steady them. Confusion struck him full force as he tried to process what had just happened.

"Are you alright?" Eames asked, sounding genuinely concerned.

The point man shook his head, feeling his heart racing in his chest, "I don't know."

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During the day Eames had wanted to confront Cobb, ask him what was going on with Arthur, but the children had come home from school and gave him no time to be alone with the extractor. It was past midnight before the forger thought it would be safe to have a conversation with Cobb. He exited his room and made his way toward Cobb's room. On his way, he saw Arthur sitting in the livingroom, channel surfing, the television flickering every few seconds. Eames kept on walking, listening to the shifting of channels as he made his way up the stairs onto the second floor.

Cobb's door was open. The extractor sat on his bed, almost as if he had been waiting for Eames to walk through the door. He gave a weak smile when the forger entered the room and closed the door behind him.

"You've been wanting to talk to me all day," Cobb remarked.

"I was very obvious about it," Eames said, leaning against the door.

"So, what is it?"

"What's wrong with him?"

The extractor furrowed his brows, "What do you mean?"

"I brought up what happened last year and it's as if he doesn't remember it happening."

"He's fine, Eames."

"How is he fine?"

"He's doing things on his own again. He can handle himself."

"That doesn't prove anything."

"He's well again. Isn't that what matters?"

"Cobb, what did you do?"

"Nothing."

"You're a bloody liar," Anger was flaring up in the forger. He knew something was incredibly wrong, especially with the way Cobb and Arthur had been acting, "If you did something, you have to let me know. If something goes wrong when he goes back into the field, it's going to be on both your heads."

"Eames, let it go."

The forger threw up his hands, sighing in defeat before he opened the door and stormed out of the room. As he made his way back downstairs, he could still hear the channels changing in the livingroom. He stood by the entryway, watching as Arthur kept flicking through the channels, never taking his eyes away from the screen.

_Something isn't right, _Eames thought as he reluctantly went into his room.

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**Note: **Maybe I made that last bit a little too weird eh? I'm not sure, but somehow I felt that needed to be in the story. Hopefully I can start in on some flashbacks in the next chapter or so and really give you guys a glimpse of what has occurred. Hope you guys enjoyed and feedback is always appreciated.


	3. Chapter Two

**Note: **Hello again everyone! I survived the holidays! I would like to wish all my readers a Happy New Year. I hope it got off to a good start. I would also like to apologize for the fact that it took me so long to update this. I've been very busy and unfortunately can't find a lot of time to write. I'm trying my hardest, so please forgive me if I'm not putting out enough.

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**Chapter Two:**

_Cold hands touched his face, sharpened nails tracing down his jaw line. He shivered and squeezed his eyes shut, knowing that he didn't want to see what was standing before him. A soft laugh echoed, invading his ears and rattling down his spine. It was a terrible sound._

"_We're going to have so much fun together," a female voice whispered in his ear as he tried to pull away, only to find that his limbs were weighed down. "Open your eyes."_

_He tried to turn his head away as that hand slid down to his neck and began to tighten. The presence was overwhelming. He felt his windpipe slowly being crushed beneath those fingers and still that voice persisted, "Open your eyes."_

_Against his will, he opened his eyes and saw before him a face familiar and distorted. Ruby red lips gave way to a stark white smile. The figure's eyes looked as if they were trying to gaze straight through him. Those fingers kept on tightening, until he felt the bones in his neck begin to splinter and come apart under the tension._

Arthur woke with a start, feeling cold sweat trailing down his forehead as he pushed himself off the mattress and looked wildly about the room. He was alone and the darkness of the room engulfed him. He could feel his hands shaking. _What was that?_ He wondered as he tried to hold his hands steady. They kept on trembling, relentlessly and he felt a strange sense of panic building in his chest. _What's happening to me?_

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When Cobb woke in the morning, he could already smell the aroma of breakfast from downstairs. He glanced at his clock, the red digital numbers blinking 7:00AM to him. It was half an hour before the kids would have to be woken up. Rubbing his eyes, he pushed the covers off and made his way to the bathroom to clean up. He carefully brushed his teeth and washed his face, shaking sleep from his system.

Pulling on a pair of worn pajama bottoms and a clean shirt, he made his way downstairs and into the kitchen, where he encountered Arthur standing by the stove with an open carton of eggs beside him. Cobb stood in the doorway, watching as the point man cooked. Then his eyes settled on the plates set on the counter. There were already plates filled with fruits, pancakes, and crisp strips of bacon. The amount of food raised concern in the extractor.

"Arthur?" Cobb started as he entered the kitchen. The point man looked up at him with a smile, but the extractor could see the dark circles under his eyes, "Are you okay?"

"I'm fine," Arthur answered, turning off the gas and transferring his eggs onto an empty plate, "I decided to make breakfast a little early today."

"Did you decide to make it early or was it just because you couldn't sleep?" the extractor asked, stepping forward and placing a hand on the younger man's shoulder. Arthur didn't react, "Are you sure you're okay?"

The point man only smiled, "Yeah."

The sound of a door closing caused them both to look up. Cobb pulled away from the other man and retreated to the island counter, looking over the things on its surface. It was several moments before they heard the sound of footsteps shuffling toward them. Eames approached the kitchen, eyes bleary with sleep. The forger's gaze went from one man to the other before he silently approached the coffee maker. He carefully slid the pot from its place, but then put it back as if he changed his mind.

"You wouldn't happen to have any tea lying around, would you?" Eames asked, rubbing his eyes and yawning loudly, "Not much of a coffee drinker, to be honest."

Arthur sighed with a roll of his eyes as pulled down his sleeves and carefully buttoned the cuffs, "I'll pick some up."

"No, don't," Cobb put up a hand as he tried to make his way to his room to get dressed.

"Cobb, it's okay," the point man said as he walked past the extractor, "I'm already dressed. Just remember to get the kids up in twenty minutes."

As they heard the front door close, Cobb noticed the look on Eames' face. Holding up his hand to stop the forger from speaking, he started to walk away from the counter. He didn't want to listen to the other man so early in the morning. He didn't need to be accused of things that he hadn't done. And he most certainly did not want to hear what Eames wanted to say about the strangeness of Arthur's actions on this morning.

"He's really quite domestic, isn't he?" the forger called after Cobb.

The extractor chose to ignore those words and walk away.

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_He's a liar_, Arthur thought to himself as he walked out of a small specialty tea store in town, purchase in tow. He gripped the bag in his hand as he made his way back to the car. He huffed a sigh as he got into the driver's seat and threw the bag into the passenger side. _I've seen him drink coffee before._ _He has his own damned coffeemaker._ As those words came to mind, another thought came as well. _How do I know that?_

He fumbled for his keys, uncertainty rushing through his system as he tried to remember how he knew that detail about Eames. An image popped into his head of a coffee tin containing two letters he had written. The image was clear as day, but he didn't remember why he had written those letters. He pinched the bridge of his nose, trying to remember what that image meant. _Cobol._ _They were up to something and I left a clue for Eames..._ He could remember doing that, but something was causing the memory to become jumbled in his mind.

His eyes went to the scar on his hand and he flexed his fingers, feeling the numbness the wound had left behind. For months he had to remind himself he would never regain full feeling in that hand after the injury had been sustained. The scar was ugly and prominent, but he couldn't remember how he received it. His fingers started to twitch, ever so slightly and he forced himself to grip the steering wheel. _I'm okay._

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"Listen, we need to talk," Eames was in his face the moment he stepped through the door.

Arthur rolled his eyes and sidestepped the forger as he shoved the package of tea into the other man's hands, "Whatever it is you want to talk about, can it wait? I need to call my PT to reschedule me appointment."

"Your PT?"

"My physical therapist, Eames," the point man answered, feeling aggravation building in him at all of those stupid questions, "So, excuse me."

Arthur realized it was a stupid assumption that the forger would stop bother him when he heard the man speaking once more, "Why are you going through physical therapy?"

"Is that supposed to be a stupid question or are you really that dense?"

"I'm not joking, Arthur. Tell me why you're going to PT," Eames said, following the younger man down the hall, patiently waiting for his answer.

"Because I was hurt on a job."

"Which job?"

"Eames…"

"Which job, Arthur?"

"The…" _Why is it so hard to remember? _"It was…"

Then Eames was grabbing Arthur's hand in a firm grip, holding it up, as if trying to make him see what was obviously there. The forger pointed to the scar on the younger man's palm, the one that had a matching sister on the back of his hand, "How did you get this?"

The point man stared at it, mind completely blank.

The forger pushed up the other man's sleeve, revealing a scar wrapping itself around Arthur's wrist, the markings of a pair of handcuffs, "And this?"

He tried to open his mouth and speak, raking his mind for a way to explain something that even he hadn't thought about. The scars had been there for so long that they were a part of him. He hadn't dwelled on them, hadn't even given them a second glance until that moment.

The point man's sleeve was pushed up further and the presence of healed cigarette burns made themselves known, standing out as pale dots of scar tissue against his forearm. Eames was staring intently at Arthur now, "How about these then?"

The point man struck out then, pushing the forger away forcefully. The forger sprang into action, trying to dodge the fist that was headed straight for his face. Eames' reaction was a second too late and he wasn't able to side step quick enough. He felt Arthur's knuckles connect painfully with his cheek. Then the point man's hand was closing around the forger's collar, slamming him against the wall, causing pictures to rattle.

"Don't you ever touch me without permission," the younger man growled, voice low and steady, overflowing with irritation and anger.

Instead of replying, Eames chose that moment to elbow Arthur in the side of the head, causing him to let go. He put his hands up, ready to strike, but the younger man didn't retaliate, simply stood there, hunched over, clutching his head. The forger massaged his neck with one hand, the other pressed against his throbbing cheek, "Real feisty when you're confused, aren't you?"

"I'm not confused!"

"Then what happened to you, Arthur?"

"What's going on in here?" Cobb's voice caused both met to look toward the door way.

The point man glared at Eames before straightening himself, tugging the wrinkles from his blazer and running a hand through his hair. Pushing his way pass Cobb, he muttered, "Nothing."

The extractor gave the forger a puzzled look. Eames simply shrugged before trying to head out of the house. Cobb placed a hand on the other man's chest, stopping him in his tracks. The forger rolled his eyes before casually brushing the older man's hand away from him.

"What do you think you're doing?" Cobb asked, his disapproval evident.

"Nothing," Eames answered, looking the extractor in the eye as the next words came out of his mouth, "I want you to know that I don't feel comfortable staying here. I'll be booking a hotel and I'll want to converse with Arthur. Away from your presence."

"There's nothing wrong with him."

"You keep telling yourself that."

…~~~~…~~~~…

"_Stay with me!" Cobb's voice was frantic with worry and concern. He could hear it above him, pulling him back to reality, even as his vision swam, focusing and unfocusing. "Stay with me, Arthur!"_

"_Cobb?" he forced out, voice weak and barely above a whisper._

"_He's conscious," this time it was Eames' voice, hovering close by. "We're going to have to move him. Now or never, Cobb!"_

"_Jesus Christ," the extractor's voice was shaky._

_He felt a strange tugging sensation in his hand. Then suddenly, pain was traveling down his entire arm and he would have screamed if he could. Instead, he pitched forward, feeling strong arms holding him tight. There was the press of fabric, he could feel it against his palm, knowing someone was applying a makeshift bandage._

"_We have to go now," an unknown female voice spoke. It was distinctly accented. He could tell she was Japanese. "They're coming."_

_Movement jolted him and he tried to protest, feeling fire burning through his veins. The sound of gunshots was loud in his ears one moment. Then everything got turned down and he couldn't make out what was happening._

_Darkness closed in on him._

Arthur banged the back of his head against his closed door as he leaned back against it. His heart was pounding in his chest, cold sweat trailing down his temples. His knees gave way and he found himself on the floor, gasping for air, frantically pulling his tie loose. His stomach clenched uncomfortably and he had to forcefully swallow several times to prevent himself from vomiting.

_What's happening to me?_ The question raced through his mind as he squeezed his eyes shut and tried to remember how to breathe normally. _What happened to me?_

…~~~~…~~~~…

**Note: **Am I too mean to Arthur? I seem to have a bad habit of hurting the characters that I love. Hopefully this is keeping the story going. I hope you guys will stick around for the next chapter. Hopefully it'll be longer. It's better than nothing, right?

Thanks for reading. Feedback is always appreciated.


	4. Chapter Three

**Note: **Some people said I wasn't mean enough to Arthur. Have you guys read my other stories? Cause… I think I'm super mean to him all the time. Is it bad that I feel like I should apologize to a fictional character for all that I put him through?

I know I've been writing slower for this. It's for several reasons. I work and this story is also a bit harder to put into words. It's not so much filled with action as it is filled with emotion.

Just a heads up, updates will start becoming more sporadic as I will be juggling both work, school, and my social life very soon.

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**Chapter Three:**

Cobb knocked on Arthur's door, listening to the sounds inside, hoping to hear something. The house had been deathly quiet since he got home from dropping the kids off at school after his run in with Eames. He had noticed earlier that the guest room was cleared out in the time it took for him to leave and come back. _He sure does know how to make a speedy getaway. _He knocked again after a couple minutes of silence, "Arthur? Are you alright?"

He heard the sound of something moving, then light footsteps approaching the door. The point man pulled the door open, facing the extractor with tired eyes. He waved the older man into his room as he walked back toward his bed, sitting on the edge of it.

"Are you okay?" Cobb asked, crossing his arms in front of his chest and looking intently at Arthur, "You've been acting weird these past couple of days."

"They've been a weird couple of days," the younger man replied, running a hand through his hair, "What with Eames being here and all."

"It's not just Eames, is it?" the extractor's eyes traveled over the other man's clothing, taking in the loosened tie and rumpled shirt.

The point man couldn't seem to bring himself to look at Cobb, "It's nothing."

"You can say that all you want, but it won't make it true."

"Please leave."

"Arthur."

"Cobb."

"Arthur, please," the extractor crossed the room and sat beside the point man, putting a hand on his back in a comforting gesture. He felt that minute reaction, almost as if the younger man was about to pull away at that small amount of contact, "If something is the matter, you have to tell me. You've kept a lot from me before and last time… last time, was the scariest thing I've had to deal with in a long time."

Arthur raised his eyes, looking at the older man with hesitation. When he finally spoke, his voice was unsteady, "I feel like there's something wrong with me, wrong with my head."

"You went through something incredibly traumatic. The doctors sa-"

"I don't remember anything about that job, Dom!"

Cobb put his hands up in a gesture of defense and reasoning, "Hey. Listen. It's okay. It'll come back. Just give it time. Okay? We'll work on it."

And even as Arthur started to look calmer, Cobb knew that his partner would keep trying to search for answers because that was what the point man did. _I just have to keep a closer eye on him._

"Why don't you get some fresh air? Clear your head?" the extractor asked.

The younger man opened his mouth, almost as if he were about to speak, then closed it. He contemplated for a moment before nodding.

…~~~~…~~~~…

Eames had left the Cobb household faster than he had wanted. He had hoped to get a chance to talk to Arthur alone, but being in that house made things impossible. Cobb was constantly around, as if he were trying to make sure the point man didn't interact anyone. The forger had a bad feeling about the entire situation and that, as he kept telling himself, was why he stayed in America instead of going back home. He would have rather forgotten about everything that had happened and leave things up to fate, but rescuing Arthur had triggered something in him.

There was never a time in their career when Arthur seemed weak or vulnerable. There were moments when the point man looked fazed, shocked, or even surprised, but never defenseless. That day out in the gulf, all of them inside of that rig and its metal interior, he saw Arthur completely unguarded. He saw the point man hurt beyond all reason, practically clinging to the last of life as they hauled the man to safety. He saw Arthur looking so young and frail that he had to avert his gaze after they were sailing away from the battle zone.

"_Oh my god," Ariadne breathed, her hands over her mouth as she backed away from the people swarming Arthur's body._

_They had just gotten out of range of firearms with no one pursuing them, yet below deck everyone was frantic and yelling. Two men took quick action, using makeshift bandages to keep the point man from bleeding out completely. Another was barking orders, pushing those not necessary out of the room. At one point the man tried to escort Eames from the room. The forger gave him a long hard look, making it known that he wasn't leaving._

"_Is he going to be okay?" Ariadne asked, standing close to Eames, her hand on his arm, "Will he live?"_

"_I don't know," Eames answered, noticing that the young architect was dressed in normal attire again. He placed an arm around her shoulder, pulling her further from the scene, pressing their backs against the wall, "We just have to wait and see."_

_The men, now obviously medics, were speaking in rapid Japanese. It had been a long time since the forger had spoken or encountered any Japanese, but he still caught bits and pieces, struggling to translate them in his head. The only word he could clearly translate was _critical, _but he already knew just from looking at Arthur that the man's condition was critical._

_The point man, pale from blood loss and shock, lay prone. Occasionally, a soft sound escaped from his lips as those men probed his wounds. His eyelids would flutter, but they stay closed. His blood stained the cabin floor a dark red and Eames felt Ariadne bury her face in his arm, trying not to see._

_Cobb stood by the men, brows furrowed in worry. He was biting his thumbnail, nervous and stressed by the entire situation. Eames could tell by the extractor's posture that this was Cobb's moment of weakness. This was Cobb's worst fear since the day Mal died._

The events of that day and the days that followed haunted him. It sat in the back of his mind, pushing themselves through whenever he thought of Cobb, Ariadne, Saito, even simply visiting Yusuf made him remember what occurred. Now, seeing Arthur, it made those memories stand out so much clearer. He couldn't believe that the point man's mind simply repressed it. Something like that, something so traumatic, he knew, was bound to stay in someone's mind for as long as they lived.

Eames slowly came out of his reverie, rubbing his face with his hand as he heaved a sigh. One hand played with the small poker chip he always had on his person. The weight of it was comfortable in his hand as he flipped it back and forth between his fingers, contemplating what he should do next.

Just as he was about to give up and go for a walk instead of sitting in his room, his phone rang.

…~~~~…~~~~…

_What am I doing? _Cobb asked himself as he walked into the basement, closing the door behind him. He made sure that it was locked so no one could interrupt him. He flicked the light switch before heading down the stairs. Light flooded the space and he gave the room a quick glance, remembering that over a year ago, Yusuf had been down there concocting compounds for them.

He made his way to the back of the room, where the light just barely reached. There was a stack of boxes before him and he carefully pushed them aside. There laid a small safe he had concealed a short while ago. He turned the dial on the door, imputing the combination. The safe clicked open. Looking inside, Cobb heard that voice in his head again. _What am I doing?_

Reaching into the safe, he withdrew a small vial filled with amber liquid. The bottle was half full. He held it in his hand, feeling the weight of it, remembering the last time he had to use it, remembering why he kept it in the basement.

_The shower had been running for a long time. Cobb pressed his ear against the door, trying to hear. Hearing nothing but the sound of running water, he knocked on the door. He waited, hoping for a response. When he didn't get one, he knocked again, a little louder._

"_Arthur?" Cobb called, knocking again, "Are you okay in there?"_

_Concern flooded through his system when he, once again, didn't get a response. Going against his own instincts, he placed his hand on the doorknob and turned it, pushing the door open. Steam rushed out, hitting him in the face._

"_Arthur?" the extractor questioned, his eyes falling to the figure huddled at the far end of the tub._

_The sight Cobb saw made his heart ache. Arthur was backed up against the far corner of the tub, almost as if trying to get away from the spray of water. The younger man's whole body trembled and, even from where he was standing in the doorway, the extractor could hear Arthur's panicked breathing, quick and uneven._

_The extractor stepped forward and turned the water off before grabbing a towel from the rack. He draped the towel over the point man's exposed body, trying to dry him off, even though the other man refused to budge from where he was positioned._

"_Arthur, look at me." Cobb placed his hand under the younger man's jaw, gently lifting his head. The point man's eyes were filled with dread and he couldn't keep himself from gasping for air. "It's okay. You're alright."_

"_What's happening to me, Dom?" asked Arthur, his voice weak and trembling, "What's wrong with me?"_

"_Nothing is wrong with you," Cobb answered, knowing the lie behind those words, "Come on. Let's get you back to your room, alright? I'll give you something to make you feel better."_

_The younger man looked hesitant, but his breathing was finally beginning to calm. Then he slowly nodded his head and began to push himself to his feet. The extractor helped the entire way. He had done the same thing before, numerous times, knowing what to expect. Cobb knew it seemed as if he was being protective, but in reality, in all honesty, it was because he already knew what to expect. This wasn't the first time he's had to take care of Arthur._

Cobb clutched the vial in his hand. _I didn't want to do this again so soon._ He held the small bottle tight, the cool liquid inside turning warm in his palm. Yet, he had to consider the fact that Eames was in town, ready to step in the moment anything looked even remotely suspicious. He ran a hand through his hair as he pocketed the item. _Damn it, Arthur. What am I supposed to do now? This feels all wrong._

…~~~~…~~~~…

"I didn't think you would actually seek me out so soon. I'm actually surprised you managed to find me so fast," Eames said, stirring his water with lime, keeping his gaze on the point man sitting before him. The younger man gave him a look that signaled he should get to the point, "In all honesty, I thought it would be harder to make contact with you after what happened this morning."

"Why's that?" Arthur asked, feeling the weight of the forger's eyes on him.

"Because Cobb's hiding something and it has to do with you. Haven't you noticed? He doesn't like it when we're alone together in the same room."

"I'm not dense, Eames," the point man scowled, leaning his elbows on the table they occupied, "I know he's keeping something from me and I want to know what it is, but there's not realistic way of approaching him with this. I don't even know what it is that he's keeping from me."

Eames leaned in, trying to find a way to word what he would say in a pleasant manner. He just didn't know how to. "I think he has something to do with what's happening to you. He's been in your head."

"No!" Arthur practically got out of his seat, "He wouldn't do that."

"Why? Because you trust him?

"I know Cobb. He wouldn't do something so… immoral."

"What about the Fischer job?"

Arthur's breath caught in his throat at the mention of it, remembering how they had all been caught up in that terrible predicament. They could have all gotten killed and ended up in limbo. Cobb had failed to mention that there was a chance their lives were on the line. _But he's different now._

"He's different now," the point man argued, "He was a different person back then and you know it."

"Look, you can defend him all you want. He's your friend, I get it. But the point is, you can't rule out the fact that he could've had something to do with why you forgot what happened." Eames put one hand up when Arthur looked as if he were about to interject, "I just want to know if you've honestly repressed it or if he's messed with your mind."

"And how do you plan going about this?"

"We need to go into your mind and see if anything's been tampered with."

Arthur looked away from the forger, his eyes suddenly distant. He thought on what had just been said before glancing back at Eames. He leaned onto the table again, making eye contact with the man sitting across from him, "Answer me honestly, Eames. Do I have reason to repress what happened to me?"

"Yes," the older man answered without hesitation.

The point man nodded, thinking over the answer, "Then I don't want to go under."

"Then what do you suggest?"

"I want you to help me remember. Naturally. No devices. No concoctions. I want to recall it for myself."

"Alright," the forger said, nodding his agreement, "Under one condition."

"What's that?"

"We don't do this anywhere near Cobb."

"Agreed."

_We're finally getting somewhere, _Eames thought as he took a sip of his water. For the first time since he arrived, things were starting to feel normal.

…~~~~…~~~~…

**Note: **And that ends this chapter! Hurray! I feel like I should include the Cobb kids more, but I have such a hard time writing children. I just can't seem to make them sound normal. They either sound too childish or too snotty. I'll try and put them in more as they can't just simply disappear!

I hope everyone enjoyed this chapter as I enjoyed writing it very much. Please let me know what you think and thank you very much for reading and sticking with me.


	5. Chapter Four

**Note: **Hello everyone! Long time no see! I'm sorry, but I have to make this short. I'm strapped for time and I need to get back to studying. Thank you all for your kind reviews of the previous chapter and I'm sorry you've all had to wait (and will probably have to wait for the next few chapters as well).

…~~~~…~~~~…

**Chapter Four:**

By the time Arthur made it home, it was already past eleven in the evening. He was relieved that the children would at least be in bed when he walked in. If he knew Cobb, he knew the man would be waiting for him. _Eames was right. Cobb's been keeping a real close eye on me. Why haven't I noticed?_ As he walked up to the front door and inserted his key into the lock, he made up his mind. He would move out of that house as soon as possible. He was fully capable of taking care of himself, even with physical therapy and the medication he had been slowly weaning himself of.

"You were out pretty late," the extractor's voice greeted him the moment he walked through the door.

"I was just out," the point man answered, trying to keep it as vague as possible. He didn't want to reveal that he had spent time with Eames and a good portion of his day wandering through the city, trying to decide what to do now that he suspected Cobb was tampering with his memories.

"I left some dinner for you in the kitchen," the older man said.

Cobb's voice showed no suspicion, no signs of worry. Though Arthur knew that should have been a red flag, it actually caused him to relax in the other man's presence, "I'm not hungry."

"How about a drink then?" the extractor asked, though he didn't wait for an answer before he headed into the kitchen.

The point man almost protested, but decided that a drink wouldn't hurt. He thought that perhaps it would even be a good way to express the fact that he wanted to get out of that house. He made his way into the kitchen and found that Cobb had already placed two glasses of juice on the counter.

"Dom, we should talk," the younger man said, standing by the counter and pulling a glass to himself.

"Sure," the extractor smiled, "What do you want to talk about?"

Arthur watched as the other man took a long drink and followed suit. Swallowing, he was silent for a moment as he tried to think of a good way to phrase what he was about to say, "You've been really great about me being injured and unable to take care of myself, but I feel like it's time I get back to my own life, my own apartment, my own environment."

"What brought this up?"

"I just…" He felt so thirsty suddenly. He licked his lips and had more of his drink, unable to understand why he was suddenly feeling tongue tied. "I feel like I've been intruding and it's not exactly an ideal set up. James and Phillipa can't have me around forever."

"I understand," Cobb said with a casual wave of his hand, "I know you're eager to get back out there and you want to start working again."

"Yeah, that's it. I'm… I'm really glad that – uh…" _Why is it so hard to think of the right words all of a sudden?_

"Besides, there's no reason for you to stay here. You're not a prisoner, Arthur."

"I…" The point man's tongue felt thick in his mouth. He placed his hand on the counter, feeling the floor shift beneath him. He felt as if all the blood in his body was draining away from his head, leaving him lightheaded and dizzy, "What did you put in my drink?"

"You don't have to know," Cobb answered, his voice calm, yet filled with lament, "You won't remember. You never remember."

"You've done this to me before," it wasn't a question that escaped Arthur's lips. It was a statement. Something clicked in his mind and he realized that this scenario had happened before. Déjà vu. _Eames was right._

Arthur's legs gave out from under him and he hissed in pain as his hands and knees connected with the tiled floor. He tried to look up, see the face of the man he called friend. He wanted to see the look on Cobb's face, wanted to know why this was happening. What surprised him, even in that moment, was that the look on the extractor's face wasn't one of malice. It was a look of regret.

"I'm sorry," Cobb sounded genuinely apologetic, "I have to keep my promise."

The point man tried to speak, but then the floor was coming up to meet him and all thought fled.

…~~~~…~~~~…

Eames stared at his phone, willing it to ring. He had woken up at four in the morning with an uneasy feeling. He couldn't sleep for the rest of the night and ended up chain smoking until he was out of cigarettes. By the time 7AM rolled around, he decided it would be a good time to start getting ready. He had to keep his meeting with Arthur after all.

By the time he was done getting ready, it was almost 8AM. He expected his phone to ring at any moment. The point man had told him the meeting place would be relayed before they meet. When the call didn't come, Eames chalked it up to Arthur being busy helping the kids get ready for school. But by the time the clock read noon, he started to worry. Arthur was hardly ever tardy and when he was, he called and had a good reason.

_Something's not right, _the forger thought as he got on his coat and headed out of his room. _And Cobb has something to do with it. I just know it._

…~~~~…~~~~…

"Arthur?" Cobb asked, standing by the entry way to the living room, watching the younger man sitting on the couch, watching TV.

"Yes?" the point man replied, not looking up.

"Are you alright?" the extractor asked as he approached the couch and sat on the arm rest.

Arthur looked up then and gave the other man a smile, "Of course I am. Why do you ask?"

"You've been really quiet all morning."

"I just wanted to relax and watch TV for a while. Besides, I have physical therapy in a few hours. I don't really feel like doing anything else."

"Okay."

Cobb stayed seated, watching as the point man flipped through the channels, hardly stopping to watch, hardly even blinking. Seeing that, he felt a terrible tightening sensation in his chest. This wasn't the man he had known for years. This wasn't the man he had worked with and trusted with his life. The man before him was only a shade of his former self and it was his fault. _It's my fault. He was coming back to his senses and I stopped him._

A hard rapping on the front door made him look up. It even pulled Arthur's attention away from the television. Cobb put his hand out, signaling the younger man to stay where he was. The extractor approached the front door and before he even opened it, he knew who was standing on the other side. It was Eames and he looked livid.

"Where is he?" the forger asked, already inching his way inside.

"Eames," the extractor tried to get the words out of his mouth, but the other man was already pushing past him and walking into the house, "Come back here!"

Cobb immediately felt his throat seize up when Eames pulled the point man up from the couch by one arm.

"Where have you been?" the forger demanded, looking back and forth between Arthur and Cobb, "Has he been keeping you here?"

"What the hell are you doing here?" Arthur's voice was filled with confusion at the arrival of the British man standing in the living room, "And who the hell do you think you are, barging in here like this?"

Eames' gaze immediately went to Cobb, glaring at him with such intensity the extractor had to take a step back, putting his hands up, ready to defend himself.

"What did you do to him?" the forger asked, stepping toward the other man, "He doesn't remember I was here."

"Eames, look-" Cobb couldn't get the words out before Eames' hand closed around the shirt of his collar.

"Let go of him!" The forger froze, feeling the barrel of Arthur's Glock pressed against the back of his head. "I have no idea what's going through that thick skull of yours, but you better let him go before I pull the trigger."

Cobb drew in several deep breaths when Eames released him, "Arthur, put that away."

"Cobb."

"No, it's okay."

The extractor could see that the point man wasn't willing to relax, even with those words to reassure him. _For all he knows, Eames was here to kill me. _But that look of alertness, of fierce concentration, Cobb hadn't seen that look in a long time and it caused him to instantly think back on the jobs that they had done together. It made him think back to how Arthur handled the situation over a year ago.

"You've got him trained, don't you?" Eames said, voice dripping with venom. "Made sure to go back in a rewire him, am I right?"

"Eames, I can't explain right now," the extractor tried. Even as those words came out of his mouth, he couldn't help but let his gaze fall on Arthur.

"Because he's here?"

"No."

"Cobb," Arthur's voice was in full command, "He shouldn't be here."

That voice nearly startled the extractor. He hadn't heard it in so long, it sounded foreign, "I'm sorry, Eames, but I'm going to have to ask you to leave."

"I'll show myself out," the forger sneered as he pushed past Cobb, their shoulders colliding as he did so.

The extractor jumped, hearing the sound of the front door being slammed shut with so much force it felt as if the whole house shook on its foundation. He breathed a sigh of relief before looking over at Arthur. The younger man already had his weapon holstered and was standing calmly in the middle of the living room.

"Mind telling me what that was all about?" the point man asked, annoyed.

"I don't know what to tell you," Cobb answered, feeling the other man's questioning stare. He knew one day he would buckle under that look on Arthur's face, but this was not the day.

The younger man simply rolled his eyes and waved his hand dismissively, "I'll look into it tonight. He has to be here for a reason."

"If you think you should."

The extractor watched as Arthur sat back down on the couch and started to channel surf again, eyes glued to the screen as if what had happened had never occurred. _I'm sorry, Arthur, but it's all falling apart._

…~~~~…~~~~…

**Note: **Thank you all for reading, please let me know what you think. The next chapter is in the works and hopefully I can get it down between work and school. Life has just been so hectic and I do feel bad for making you all wait so long as you're all so nice about reading and reviewing.


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